


Greatest Triumph

by Eleftheria_F



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fanfiction, Fluff, Football, Football | Soccer, M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:34:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29145270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleftheria_F/pseuds/Eleftheria_F
Summary: The rhythmic thumping of his heart matched the counting in his head, waiting for the final whistle to blow. They were in the lead, a tremendous game had been played where it was getting close. Anxiety had built up inside every player, but they focused on the ball rather than any doubt or worry that tried to control their mind. It had been ninety minutes, an extra two minutes were given. They were about to win, they just had to keep possession for a few more seconds... just a few more to go and...Relief flooded through each player from the Paradis team as the victorious sound of the whistle rang through the pitch. They all joined together, cheering and clapping and embracing. Paradis was on a winning streak, for the first time in years they had actually done well and been able to enter the Scouts tournament. This winning game was their ticket to finally playing in the real deal, an actual tournament which could lead them to the championships. That’d never happened before with the team.Dark-chocolate coloured eyes scanned the field as friends and family from the stands celebrated too. What was one a prideful grin turned into a realising frown as the fact haunted him that no one had turned up to watch him.
Relationships: Floch Forster/Jean Kirstein, Krista Lenz | Historia Reiss/Ymir
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a four chapter piece!

Despite the chatter of voices that filled the cafeteria to the brim, it felt like Floch was completely alone in it. Yes, he sat at a table with people he would consider friends. But part of him felt like he wasn’t really there, his body was there but he wasn’t there in spirit. It was nobody’s fault, Floch didn’t blame anyone for the feeling of being left out. The feeling was just there, he couldn’t do much about it. 

“So, what’re you up to?” A voice interrupted, reaching over to take a crisp from the packet in-front of Floch. The red-head glanced up to see one of his closest friends, Jean, sneak the snack even when he was looking. 

“Practise tonight, there’s a big game on Friday.” Floch replied, a little excited that he finally got to discuss the game he was looking forward to. “If we win this, Paradis gets into the tournament.” He added happily, the idea of the tournament felt like worlds away but it looked like it could be within their reach. 

Even though the other male didn’t have much knowledge on the sport, he nodded along anyway. “That’s sick.” Jean commented, trying his best to sound interested in something that sounded like a complete bore to him. It had seemed to work, as Floch had continued grinning and went on to explain more about the game. 

Not any of Floch’s friends played in the team, or even seemed to like the sport at all. It didn’t stop him from joining the high school’s failing team, it didn’t matter to him too much as long as he got the chance to play. The idea of an actual competition still lingered in Floch’s mind, it was a dream of his. 

The rhythmic thumping of his heart matched the counting in his head, waiting for the final whistle to blow. They were in the lead, a tremendous game had been played where it was getting close. Anxiety had built up inside every player, but they focused on the ball rather than any doubt or worry that tried to control their mind. It had been ninety minutes, an extra two minutes were given. They were about to win, they just had to keep possession for a few more seconds... just a few more to go and...

Relief flooded through each player from the Paradis team as the victorious sound of the whistle rang through the pitch. They all joined together, cheering and clapping and embracing. Paradis was on a winning streak, for the first time in years they had actually done well and been able to enter the Scouts tournament. This winning game was their ticket to finally playing in the real deal, an actual tournament which could lead them to the championships. That’d never happened before with the team. 

Dark-chocolate coloured eyes scanned the field as friends and family from the stands celebrated too. What was one a prideful grin turned into a realising frown as the fact haunted him that no one had turned up to watch him. 

Shrugging off the hurtful thoughts that darkened his brain, Floch turned back to his team with a smile as they shouted they were in the tournament. 

It was Saturday night, everyone had gathered round at Connie’s for a small party. It didn’t consist of everyone, but Jean had tried to convince Floch to come along and he eventually agreed. The footballer wanted to celebrate his win anyway, he thought he deserved the break of sitting with a few friends. He could have a few drinks, watch a dumb movie and then go back home to his nice warm bed. 

By the time twelve o’clock rolled around, it did not seem like that at all. Sober Floch would have no idea why tipsy Floch decided to take Marlowe’s challenge of who could have the most shots. The stubborn teen did not back down, and actually won when Marlowe had to sprint to the bathroom to throw up. 

The idea wasn’t clearly thought through, because half an hour later Floch had stumbled around, shouted at Armin, got scowled by Jean and Eren, then again by Mikasa, and was finally settled on the sofa in the living room. His mind was racing at a hundred miles an hour as he stared at the ceiling, feeling as though the world was spinning faster but he hadn’t moved a muscle. 

Hearing someone sit down next to him, the drunk red-head finally could spill his thoughts out loud. “Heyyy Jean!” He greeted happily, an emphasis on the ‘ey’ when he saw the other. “Y’know I uh, I’m playin’ at the tournment.” He continued, grinning at the idea as his words slurred over each other. Clearly the other had been told this already, as his eyes seemed to roll in annoyance. 

“Yes, I know.” The other grumbled, exhausted from trying to out-drink Eren a few hours ago. It hadn’t worked. 

“No, you don’t get it!” Floch whined, as if he had been explaining the same thing to Jean over and over but he was still confused. “We have never got into them,” he informed, lightly punching the blond’s shoulder at each word. “It’s going t-be fun! A real competion!” the explaining went on, Floch saying how exciting the game would be now they had something to compete for. How the team spirit would be better, how more people might turn up to watch. The mere opportunity of getting to play more was extremely appealing to Floch. 

But the tone was changed slightly. 

“But,” Floch started, now slumped against the back of the sofa. Minutes had passed and Jean didn’t bother getting up, so Floch continued to talk his ear off about the sport. “It kinda sucks when no one turns up to watch me.” He half-whispered, as if he was just talking to himself. His eyes were half lidded, he was moments away from sleep. His red polo-shirt and dark blue jeans still smelt of alcohol, from the accidental spillage when Sasha knocked into him. He wasn’t in a great state, but neither was anyone else. 

“I mean, everyone else has someone to watch. Even if it’s their family... or even their friends...” Floch yawned a couple times as his eyes finally fluttered shut, his mind filled with imagination as he thought about what might happen at the next game. How they could win again. 

It was usually dangerous to fall asleep at a party, especially at Connie’s. But almost everyone else was asleep too, the ones who were awake wouldn’t bother with pranks. Instead, they’d make sure everyone was fine before they headed home or to sleep themselves. 

Practise had flew past that week, with the now excitement of their first game in the tournament they were determined to do well. The team were much friendlier now, as well as the coach who was cheering and jumping around at each moment she got. Coach Zöe hadn’t had the school’s team in anything important in a long time, so this was something big for her too. 

Floch had enjoyed experiencing a new side of the game. It wasn’t just the practise, the losses, the occasional wins. He was now feeling what it was like to be on a proper team, who had hope they could win. 

The red-head played as a striker, trying to score goals at each opportunity he had. Or what Coach Zöe always told them to call it, a centre forward. He wasn’t the best player from the team, but Floch did feel fairly confident in his skills. The footballer wasn’t popular or the team’s heart at the least, that spot belonged to a guy named Thomas, but he was a valued player to the team. 

Because it was the first game they’d play in the tournament, the Paradis team was a bit nervous. In spite of the constant reassurance from Coach Zöe that she was proud they even made it to the tournament, the fact that they could lose and mess it up scared them for a short while. When they arrived on the night and hyped each other up, they left the locker room feeling confident and excited. 

Maria High was playing against them, which was a school with a reputation for having a decent team. It didn’t put the Paradis players off, though. As soon as they were on the field their head was in the game, ready to play like they never had before. 

The first half was intense, with a goal being scored by each team. Maria had scored within the first fifteen minutes, but by the time the clock reached thirty-five minutes thankfully Paradis made a comeback. The goal was scored by a player named Samuel, but Floch had proudly assisted him beforehand. Even though players crowded round them, the red-head had managed to pass and then Samuel was able to score. 

Come the second half, things were much more quiet. Maria had been in possession of the ball over half the time, but a great defence from Paradis prevented them from scoring anymore goals. The ninety minute mark was soon to be up, it was unsettling to Floch. Even though a draw they would be perfectly happy with, the thought of the clock ticking closer made him want to do something. 

His eyes scanned across the other players for a moment. They were trying so hard, the team had been so excited for the game. Floch remembered seeing a side he hadn’t really seen before, it felt as though the team were his friends. The same chocolate eyes glanced over at the audience who were staring in anticipation at the game. The idea of letting them down when they had been so hyped up annoyed him. He was sure if they won a few more games and looked serious they could get cheerleaders too. 

Exhaustion pulled him to the ground harshly, persuading him to give up and just rest the last few minutes. He began to wonder if they could just settle with a draw and simply focus on keeping the ball like they did the previous game. Floch was tired and sweaty and thirsty. (He had a habit of forgetting to bring water).

Then he saw the ball coming his way. 

If you were to ask Floch what happened after that moment, he’d say it was all a blur. He saw an opening between himself and the goal, then before he knew it he had sprinted forward dribbling the ball. The male swore he heard someone call his name, his first name. Not Forster, what his teammates would’ve yelled. He didn’t spare a single second on that thought more, brushing it off as he raised his right foot back and smashed the ball forward. 

The teen thought he played well that game, but he didn’t expect to suddenly score at the last minute. Putting them in the lead. After his team had ran over to him as he stood frozen in shock, the last few minutes were over in a whim. They had cheered and slapped his back so hard he felt like he’d collapse any moment, but he managed to stay standing until the game ended. He had a shit-eating grin on his face as he approached the rest of the players, who were more than pleased with his performance. 

“Forster, that was unreal!” Thomas had praised, sweat dripping off his forehead. The blond was panting from how much running he had done in the last half an hour, it was admirable. 

Even the coach had ran over, just as happy as the rest of them. “You guys were amazing! I can’t believe we won! But I knew it!” Her contrasting words didn’t phase the team, they just laughed as they continued to celebrate. It was a big win for the Paradis team, one of their biggest winnings yet. 

As the team shouted and laughed and joked around, Floch heard the sound of clapping from a few meters away. The figure wasn’t dressed like the dark-green strips they had on, so the red-head knew it was someone from the crowd. It was only when he focused on the other’s face did he realise who it was.

“Jean?” The words escaped his mouth as he left the crowd of his team, his eyes wide in confusion at why the other was there. He’d never been to any of Floch’s football game. He was unsure the blond even knew much about the game. 

The other didn’t seem bothered by his surprise. “That was great, you never said you were _that _good.” Jean pointed out, waving to a couple of the other guys he recognised on the team. “So, what happens now?” He asked, curious about the whole competition thing. Floch had told him all this already, but it was after he had a lot of drinks and barely remembered a word he said. Except the words where Floch expressed the disappointment he felt no one had came to watch him.__

__Those words hadn’t left his mind all week._ _

__“Well, next we will be playing Rose High.” Floch informed, the grin back on his face as he noticed that Jean really stayed and watched the game. He had no idea his friend was in the crowd. “Y’know what time?” The question had caught Floch off guard, it made him wonder if he was thinking of watching again._ _

__“Four o’clock next Thursday.” The footballer replied, staring eagerly at Jean to hear his reaction to this. He could be busy, which Floch couldn’t blame him for. The idea that someone had actually stayed and cheered him on was like a fever dream, Floch underestimated how happy it would’ve made him feel._ _

__Jean smiled. “I’ll be there.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

For the next few weeks, the Paradis team had been rather successful during games. Yes, they had lost a few, but overall they looked like they finally had a chance of getting into the championships. It was like a completely new team. They actually went out to celebrate wins, they got a cheerleading squad, and more people began turning up at the games. Including Jean Kirstein, who’d sometimes drag his own friends along to watch too. 

The way it impacted Floch to have someone there cheering him on was massive. Not only did he feel he played better during games, it also lifted his spirits up outside the match too. He felt as though he had a real friend, who was supportive and interested in him. He had never really felt that before. 

His favourite part of football was when, apart from scoring winning goals, it was halftime. He’d always run to the stands, where Jean would be waiting with a bottle of water. He’d throw it down to the sweaty player, lean over the stand and begin talking about how well Floch’d done. After a few times Floch stopped correcting him whenever he got terminology wrong, instead he’d laugh and just nod. 

It felt nice being able to impress someone, Floch believed he was finally doing something with a purpose. Jean didn’t do sports, but if the male did then Floch knew he’d be at each and every one of his games too. They started hanging out more, like when Floch would go round to Jean’s place and play video games. 

“Stop killing me!” Jean whined, reaching his foot over to the other beanbag and kicking the person on it. 

They only laughed. “It was an accident! My finger slipped.” The other teen had responded with a sickly innocent tone, but the grin on his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah yeah,” Jean muttered sarcastically, a hint of a smile on his face anyway. “The pizza will be ready soon. And before you start lecturing me-“ He paused, shooting a suspicious glare at Floch. He already had his mouth open to argue back. “It’s fine to have a treat, I won’t tell coach Zöe.” 

That seemed to be all the coercing Floch needed. He smiled at the blond and shook his head in disapproval, but nonetheless got up. They headed to the kitchen, where Jean got the dish from the oven and started cutting it up. 

“So, game this Friday?” He queried as he cut the pepperoni pizza into triangles. “How you feeling about it?” This attitude wasn’t fake. Jean had grown to liking the sport a bit more, or rather grown to like watching Floch play it. He no longer had to pretend to be interested to satisfy the teen, Jean liked hearing him begin to ramble with a passionate smile on his face. 

As expected, a large smile did appear on Floch’s face. “I’m feeling great!” He confirmed happily as Jean sat across from him. The table was messy from little sticky notes covered across them, but there was enough room for the plates. “This one’s an important game, it could take us to the semi-finals. If we win this, we’ve got a good chance of reaching them.” His goals had definitely changed, from simply being in the tournament to getting to as close as the finals as possible. 

“It’s a little nerve-wracking. I know Sina High are really good.” The footballer mumbled, a little more quietly as if he didn’t want his doubt to be heard. He fidgeted with one of the sticky notes, waiting for the pizza to cook. It read, ‘Keep your chin up. You are loved xo’. A smile appeared at his lips again at the cute notes that Jean’s family always wrote for each other. It was more or less his mother that wrote them all, but he did notice some with Jean’s squiggly hand writing. He didn’t point them out, but he did read them whenever Jean looked away. 

“Don’t be worried,” Jean assured, picking up a slice and taking a bite. Much to Floch’s disgust, as it was probably still piping hot. “It’ll be fine as long as you try your best. And even if you don’t win, still fun right?” He asked with a shrug. 

The other nodded, knowing he shouldn’t get himself wound up about it. His hands continued to flick at the paper notes, which caught Jean’s attention. “They’re stupid, I know.” The blond had muttered, his cheeks going red as he looked over the cringe messages stuck to the table. 

Floch disagreed. “Nah, they’re nice.” He muttered, his eyes scanning the inspiring quotes and cute messages. “It’s cool your family can say stuff like this.” He added quietly, implying that his family weren’t all that supportive. They weren’t. 

A sad smile appeared on Jean’s face, nodding in agreement. A small bit of realisation that he probably took little things like this for granted. He pushed the plate across to Floch, gesturing that he take a piece. “You’ll do great, y’know? Whether your team wins or not.” He encouraged, fully believing that Floch would do amazing at the next game. 

And he did. 

Their team had won by two goals, one which was scored by Floch. The crowd had went wild, along with the cheerleaders who had rushed over to celebrate with the players. He recognised a short blond one, her name was Historia. She was part of the friend group Floch hung out with. 

The cheerleader had swung an arm around Floch, shouting something about an ‘amazing goal’ over the chanting and cheering. The attention didn’t last long as one of the other girls, a tall brunette, pulled her away and scowled at the slightly blushing Floch. 

The red-head was grinning anyway, almost surprised at how well they’d played. Ecstasy flooded his body, watching as the coach praised all the players one by one. She seemed more excited than most of them. She had put hard work and effort into the team, just as much as any other player did. 

Then he saw Jean. Even though he felt like he couldn’t do anymore running he still sprinted towards him. He collided with the other, his arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. “Did you see that?!” He quizzed happily, pulling away after mere seconds of the embrace. His hands still gripped the teen’s shoulders though, shaking him slightly. Jean had a surprised look on his face from the sudden hug, but it quickly moulded into a proud one. 

“I saw every second.” He answered with a smile, reaching up and ruffled the other’s hair. “You were amazing.” Jean added, his cheeks turning almost as red as the other’s. Someone might of heard and just thought of it as a compliment; but it had meant the world to Floch. 

“Thanks, Jean.” Floch had responded sincerely, appreciating the fact that Jean had came to his games and watched. That Jean had been a friend in a time where he really needed one. 

The footballer had went home with a smile on his face then, finally being able to fall asleep with fond memories of the past weeks.


	3. Chapter 3

“We got in!”

Jean Kirstein had simply been plodding towards his class, exhausted from a night of studying. His earphones were blasting ‘AJJ’ to silence any noise around him, but it wasn’t enough to keep out the excited call of another teen behind him. 

“What?” The blond had asked as he pulled the earphones out and pocketed them, assuming now that Floch was here he wouldn’t get peace and quiet. He didn’t mind, though. 

“The semi-finals! Paradis is in, we’re playing Marley!” Floch repeated, enthusiastically shoving a piece of paper into Jean’s hands. It was a poster promoting the game that would be against the school’s rival. “This is big, this is really big.” Floch had muttered to himself, staring at the poster as if it was his first time seeing it. 

Smiling slightly at his excitement, Jean nudged him with his elbow. “Look at you. Before you know it you’ll be playing in the big teams, earning ridiculous amounts of money a week.”

Scoffing but his smile didn’t alter, Floch nodded and took the poster back. “We’ve got to win! Then we’ll be in the finals!” The football continued, even when Jean got to his class. He waved the blond goodbye, still grinning at the news he shared with Jean. Obviously, he told Jean first. 

**‘I’m pretty nervous’**

It was a couple nights before the game, but Floch’s nerves didn’t settle. Instead, they created a rampage inside his body, unleashing soldiers everywhere to make as much chaos as possible. It resulted in nervous fidgets, shortness of breath and the tightness in his chest. 

The first impulse he had was to seek reassurance from Jean, even though he worried the blond might be busy. He overheard that Jean had plans anyway, so he was understanding if the teen didn’t get back to him. It didn’t stop him depending on the male, maybe more than what was healthy. 

He lay on his bed, laying on his stomach as he stared at his phone. He rested his chin on the pillow he had hugged to his chest, waiting on a response. His fingers tapped anxiously on his cheek, as if the rhythmic sound of his finger tips hitting his skin would suddenly decay the rotten feeling inside of his body. 

Thoughts were interrupted though, as his bedroom door had been knocked on. After Floch grunted in annoyance, the door slowly opened. His chocolate-brown orbs hadn’t been pulled away from his phone screen though. “What?” He quizzed, finally staring up at the intruder. 

“I was just going to ask if you’d seen my keys anywhere, but it looks like you’re busy.” The voice replied, a hint of disappointment evident in it. “Who’s the girl your texting?”

“Eh? I’m not texting a girl!” Floch snapped defensively, confused on why that was his father’s first assumption. 

“You kidding me?” The older man asked, a brow raised. “You’re sitting there all red and dreamy, weird as fuck. What’s her name?” 

A moment of realisation dawned on Floch as he noticed he did look rather silly. 

“Jean.” He replied bluntly, staring back down at the blank phone screen. That seemed to satisfy his father, as he just nodded and left. Hopefully he didn’t know of Jean Kirstein, because if he did he’d know that Jean was not a girl. 

Eventually, his phone lit up with a text back. He caught his reaction in the mirror, the half-lidded eyes and goofy grin. It reminded him of a giggly, teenage girl texting her crus-

Then dawned his second, and more significant, moment of realisation. 

Booming voices and cheering fans filled the football field, the tension rising as both times were entering the pitch. The red-head stared over at the audience, noticing how many people were there now. Of course, he noticed Jean. Whom he waved sheepishly too before getting into position. A smile appeared on his face as Jean waved back. 

Staring across from him were some students famous for their athletic skills. It almost put him off. He noticed a tall, buff blond guy named Reiner Braun. He was the goalie, he had to be one of the best in the town. There was also Porco Galliard, a loyal defender who was also well known. Briefly recognising a few others too, Floch then shook off the thoughts as he tried to focus on the game. 

Only for a moment, his mind drifted. Just before the whistle started, memories of Jean floated around in his head. It was like a slide show, each showing a moving frame of the blond cheering Floch on or celebrating his win. His lips twinged into a smile, he couldn’t let this go. He couldn’t let Marley win, how else would he get to see Jean so often? How else could he get that attention he began to crave so badly?

There was no other way, he knew he had to win. 

The first round was rather flimsy on Paradis’ half, with Marley winning by two goals. They hadn’t scored any. Marley High were extremely good, not only did they have fascinating strikers but their team was incredible at defending. It was like they could read each other’s minds. 

Tension rose within the Paradis team, it was as if they had finally met their match. Harsh words were exchanged during the half time, with criticism and suggestions for next time. Floch didn’t hesitate to snap at one of the mid-fielders, a guy named Gordon, for what Floch saw as poor performance. It didn’t look good for them. 

“Hey!” Jean had hissed at the bench, leaning over the railing of the stands. “Floch!”

He had seen the argument beginning to occur within the team, he didn’t think that was a smart idea. 

“Just cool it, okay?” The teen ordered, leaning down to give Floch a bottle of water. It had become tradition he’d bring one. “You’ll be fine, if not that’s okay too. Just try enjoy it, yeah?”

But it wasn’t okay. Floch just rolled his eyes, knowing that he needed this more than anything. He needed this time with people who seemed as though they were his friends. He needed this time with Jean, he couldn’t let it go. He couldn’t go back to feeling how he felt. Alone, invisible. Like when he sat at the lunch table, with that feeling of insignificance. 

“Mhmm.” Floch hummed, taking a few swigs of the water before handing it back up to Jean. There was no way on earth he trusted it laying around the bench, for anyone to touch or drink from. 

As he returned to the field, he remembered what Jean had said. ‘Just enjoy it’. Those words replayed and replayed in his mind as he glanced around, feeling as though everything was becoming white noise. Everything was in the background, all he could do was hyper-focus on whatever was in front of him. His stare changed, from staring at the referee to the players to the individual blades of grass below him. 

Then, above all that white noise, he hears a familiar voice cheer his name. It was as if he had fallen right back into the earth, his surroundings becoming familiar again. Floch didn’t need to look to the audience to know who was cheering. 

The whistle rang, and all his focus was on the game now. He put his all into this second half. 

But was it enough?


	4. Chapter 4

It wasn’t. 

It didn’t matter how hard Floch had tried, he put every ounce of passion and determination into that second half, it hadn’t been enough. Marley had scored yet another goal, and when the ninety minutes were up Paradis High were finished and had been kicked out the tournament. They weren’t as strong as Marley, they were not a match for them. There was a few mistakes on Paradis’ hand, but that happened to every player at every game. There wasn’t such thing as a perfect match for a team. 

Floch didn’t approach it with that attitude. As the ninety minutes were up and the final whistle blew, he felt anger build up inside him that had been gradually eating at him throughout the game. If only Thomas had passed it quicker, or only if Gordon hadn’t missed the shot. He believed it was their fault that this was taken from them, he didn’t whine about his own mistakes. Deep down though, he knew he could’ve done better. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Floch had yelled at Gordon as they approached each other, Marley celebrating at the other side of the pitch. “Do you suddenly not know how to kick a ball?!” Floch continued to criticise, his brows furrowed and his teeth gritted angrily. 

“I didn’t mean it, I fucking tried! It was you who sat at the side, twiddling his thumbs!”

“Guys, calm down!”

“No, Floch’s being a prick. Call him out, Gordon.”

“Seriously chill.”

“You’re all a bunch of lazy assholes!” Floch had shouted over the top of his teammates, glaring at them accusingly. “How could you let us lose this?!” He interrogated, only to be yelled at by his teammates even more. Coach Zöe also began snapping from irritation, describing him as ignorant and that he should stay quiet. Floch knew he should’ve stayed quiet. 

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t a rough hand, a threatening gesture that meant Floch was going to be punched. Which wouldn’t be surprising because of the situation. But it was a gentle hand, which softly squeezed his shoulder. 

It was Jean. “You did your best.” The teen murmured to him, trying to pull him aside from his teammates before he said anything worse. His words sounded sympathetic, sweet. It only made Floch even more mad, realising that he had let Jean down. That he had let his team down. He couldn’t go home and brag to his family, tell them that he was actually doing something worthwhile. No, he’d need to start getting used to the sickly sweet words of pity. 

“Fuck off.” The footballer snapped, pushing Jean’s hand off him and storming off to the locker rooms to get ready. Jean’s golden eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in annoyance at how horrid Floch was acting. He didn’t follow him, but he could still hear the rest of the team complain about how Floch was a dick and a sore loser. 

He was acting like a sore loser, but Jean suspected there was way more to it. He knew his friend was a complex person; there was no way Floch could be annoyed just because he lost a game. Jean wanted to get to the bottom of it, because he cared. 

Floch’s house was something Jean had never cared to visit. If they were going to meet up, it had always been at Jean’s place. The red-head’s house just gave him the creeps, it didn’t seem all that warm and friendly. Which was the opposite of his, as annoying as it was his mother always made sure everyone felt welcome if they were in his home. 

At first, the teen was going to knock on the door to see Floch. It gave him a bit of anxiety, he hadn’t heard the nicest things about Floch’s parents. The idea of knocking and having to possibly interact with them just freaked him out, but thankfully he didn’t need to do that. As he approached the house, a bright red dot by the side of the house caught his eye. 

He’d recognise that colour of hair anywhere. Through the window, he saw Floch sitting in his room. Even though this was invading his privacy, all he seemed to be doing was sitting on his phone. So Jean snuck to the window, being quiet incase he was to attract noise to any neighbours. He didn’t want to look like a robber. 

Tip-toeing quietly to the window, his slim fingers tapped on the glass gently. It was as if he was afraid to make too much noise, he couldn’t bare startling the other and pissing him off more. A sudden weight on his chest pressed deeper as he saw the expression on Floch’s face, he looked very upset. His cheeks were tear-stained and his eyes were red and puffy. 

That was until he saw Jean at his window. It turned to confusion and a bit of anger. Not hesitating, he trudged slowly towards the window and hauled it up. “What?” Was all he asked, leaning over the side so he could see Jean. Seeing the male didn’t make his emotions worse, but it certainly didn’t make them better. He felt so embarrassed. 

“What do you mean, what?” Jean repeated, as if Floch had asked a stupid question. “What’s wrong, what happened back there?” He asked, tilting his head up only a little to see Floch. Thankfully he was only on the ground floor, so it wasn’t like he was shouting up. 

“You saw it. We lost.”

“You know that isn’t what I meant.” Jean muttered, shaking his head in disapproval. He knew that something else must of happened, it couldn’t of just been because of the game. “Can you let me in?”

Floch paused for a moment, glancing behind him suspiciously. “I guess so. Climb in, you’ll just be kicked out if you go through the door.” He added, knowing that it was hopeless trying to let any friends in if his parents were in. They liked peace and quiet, so weren’t keen on Floch having people over. Especially out of no where. 

His jaw dropping in shock, Jean then rolled his eyes and began climbing. It wasn’t that hard, Floch helped him get inside. “You need to stay quiet.” The red-head murmured as he put on music, playing it at an average level to try cancel out the noise of both of them talking. 

Despite the pain in his back and thigh from entering through the window, he had a few bumps, Jean felt fine enough to stand. He took the opportunity to look around Floch’s room, it was very bare and minimal. Just a bed, with a beige duvet cover on it, a cupboard, a set of drawers and a bedside table. 

“Nice place.” Jean complimented, even though he thought otherwise. He always believed rooms should be customised more, to show someone’s personality. The last thing he thought Floch was, was bland. 

The other had just hummed, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt awkwardly. He was out of his football strip now, instead he wore a dark-grey hoodie and a pair of jeans. Also, rather bland. 

“Listen, you can tell me what happened.” Jean coaxed gently, watching as Floch sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “I’m not disappointed, y’know? No one is, you guys did great to get that far.”

“There’s no more games now.” Floch muttered quietly. 

“There’s still practise.” Jean reminded, not sitting down at all. He stood in front of the other, wanting him to hear everything he was saying. “They’ll be another game soon, I’m sure. You guys will have friendly matches with other schools, no?”

“That’s not the issue.”

Now Jean was confused. “How? You can still play, what’s the problem?”

The red-head let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s not the playing that’s the issue.” He confirmed, his feet shuffling nervously on the floor. 

“Then what is?”

There was a pause, neither spoke. Jean waited for an answer, but got none. 

“Floch, what’s the problem?” He tried to coerce him, his arms crossed over his chest in a stubborn manner.

“I won’t get to play in front of,” Floch froze for a second. “An audience.”

Despite how Jean still didn’t get it, he tried to be comforting anyway. “You’ll still have your teammates watching, and the coach. Then when the time comes a game is on, there will be plenty of people to watch. The sport just isn’t about impres-“

“It isn’t the sport, Jean!” Floch had finally snapped, now just annoyed Jean wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t giving the blond a lot to work with, to be fair. “It’s you! You won’t come to see me every week!” Floch pressed on, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. 

“I’ve loved this. Actually y’know, spending time with someone. Spending time with you! Having someone be proud of me.” These words were like a slap in Jean’s face. He felt like he should’ve known. 

“It’s stupid.” Floch whispered, a hand covering over his mouth to hide the embarrassment he felt. He quietened down, cautious that his parents could walk in. He couldn’t be bothered getting them all wound up too, he was exhausted and just overall drained. 

“Oh, Floch.”

The words of sympathy stumbled out of Jean’s mouth as he cupped the other’s face, tilting it up. The other looked so upset, it hurt Jean to see. “We can still spend time together, yeah?” He reminded, it would be what he wanted to do anyway. 

His suggestion seemed to calm Floch a little, but he still felt pretty emotional. The hands holding his cheeks weren’t helping, either. “I’m sorry,” Floch whispered, almost as if he didn’t want Jean to hear it. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you not being there, not getting to see you cheer me on. Not getting to celebrate with you, none of that stuff. You won’t get to watch anymore games.”

The last statement made the blond laugh, which surprised Floch. He looked up at him quizzically, wondering what the hell was funny. His slight glare hadn’t shocked Jean, not at all. 

“It was never about the game.” Jean responded honestly, his hands moving from Floch’s cheeks to his shoulders. Pulling him up, he continued to chuckle softly. “It’s always been about you, I loved seeing you so happy. I don’t give two shits about the sport.”

If Floch’s cheeks weren’t considered a blush earlier, they definitely were now. His eyes widened as he hesitantly stood up, staring into Jean’s beautiful golden eyes. Never really having heard this from someone, it put Floch in an awkward position. 

The only words he could mutter out were “really?” in an unsure tone. What if this was all just a joke? What if the others had set this up to get back at Floch for being rude to them? The questions swarmed his mind, but the sincere look on Jean’s face cleared those doubts. 

“Yeah, really.” Jean replied softly, his tone warm and tender. Something that was rare with Jean, but now was a different circumstance. He wrapped his long arms around Floch’s torso, pulling him close to his chest. “I’ll still see you, still tell you how great you are.” He mumbled, resting his cheek on Floch’s hair. It was almost easier to talk to him now he didn’t have to face him. 

The hug was awkward, incredibly awkward. Floch had slid his arms around the other back, resting his head against Jean’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something, but either way he didn’t. There was the worry that one of his parents would walk in, but he didn’t hear their footsteps. 

It was nice, too. Floch had never really been held like this, it was reassuring and comforting and gentle. He squeezed the other as he exhaled deeply, the physical contact relieving him of the stress and weights that were rested on his shoulders. 

After a few moments, Floch pulled away from the embrace. His face was burning up, he didn’t exactly want Jean to see it. It was hard to hide, though. His heart was racing now, it felt as though it was going a hundred miles an hour. His legs were slightly shaky too, just from the nerves. 

Floch’s next action all felt as though it happened in slow motion. It was impulsive, maybe if he had thought about it he wouldn’t of done it. But all these pent up emotions and feelings he had towards Jean finally needed to spill, it all came out in a few quick motions. He leaned up, his hand sliding round the back of Jean’s head and pushing it closer to him. 

The paranoia that the feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated instantly vanished when Floch felt a soft pair of lips meet his own. Jean’s eyes had fluttered shut, which reminded Floch to do the same. The taller of the two’s hands slid around Floch’s waist, holding him still as his lips pushed against the other’s. 

It wasn’t like Floch hadn’t kissed anyone before, he and Jean both had, but this felt so different. It was like the kiss meant a thousand words to Jean, and a thousand reassurances to Floch. It was so in the heat of the moment, Floch didn’t truly realise what he was doing. He remembered when he caught his reaction in the mirror to texting Jean, the night his father asked if we was texting a girl. He knew he felt something towards Jean, he wasn’t certain what, but instead of burying that down more he embraced the feeling. 

He hadn’t even entertained the thought that he might be gay, not more than he assumed the average person did. Part of Floch wanted to pull away, to stop and actually think about what he was doing. However, he just felt so sure of this now. It felt so right, his mouth magically dancing in time with Jean’s. It wasn’t perfect at first, it was rather messy, but finally they seemed to match like a jigsaw piece. 

It wasn’t fireworks and sparkles like everyone said it would felt like. It was anxiety ridden and scary, but Floch felt like he belonged. Like there shouldn’t be anywhere else in the world he should be, except in Jean’s arms.

Eventually, the two pulled away. At the time it didn’t seem necessary, but they did need oxygen. 

“Oh my God.” Floch mumbled to himself in disbelief, stepping back from Jean. The sudden dialogue scared the blond, who’s facial expression changed to fear. “Was that- are we on the same page?” Jean asked quickly, wondering if he had read the whole situation wrong. He believed Floch liked him, it certainly seemed like it. It was Floch who leaned in first, who pulled him into it. Maybe he rushed into it, maybe he should’ve taken a step back. 

“Yeah, yeah we are.” Floch reassured, still in shock from it all. Never would he have suspected Jean liked him in this way, although he hadn’t experienced this type of relationship before so he had no precious memories to compare it too. “It’s just... it’s all so embarrassing. I wish it didn’t happen like this. I’ve made such an arse of myself.”

Jean’s nervous expression turned into that of a joyful one. “Pfft, it’s okay.” He smiled, waving him off. “At least it happened, hm?” He added, grateful that this was the result of what had occurred earlier even though it was bad. 

“Can we re-try this, maybe under less dramatic circumstances?” Floch’s pace was quick, he was clearly humiliated by all of this. He wished that this confession would’ve been nicer, instead of Floch’s horrible attitude beforehand. 

“Are you asking me on a date?” Jean teased, a grin appearing on his face. The other blushed but grinned too, it almost felt back to normal. “Yeah, how about I take you out next Friday?” Jean offered. 

“Sure, I’d like that.”

Sometimes, the best things in life are the unsuspected things. Instead of the biggest goals you look forward too, it’s the smaller things between those quests that really matter. Life is like a mountain, sometimes it doesn’t really matter what’s actually on top. It’s about who you spend your time with climbing up.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not too educated on the sport so if I’ve made any mistakes feel free to correct me 😅


End file.
